


Confessions

by hufflepuffdean



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, gay babies, just your average pining, young(er) erik & charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 00:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16148933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffdean/pseuds/hufflepuffdean
Summary: Erik drunkenly muttered three little words with one significant meaning.





	Confessions

Erik upturned yet another glass of whiskey, enjoying the burn in his throat as he downed the warm liquid. It had been days since he last spoke to Charles. Oh, his sweet Charles. He missed him more than anything in the world; all he wanted to do was forget. He couldn't bear the pain that the mere thought of him brought to his ever breaking heart.

Everything was his fault; he knew it was. If Erik only had realized that he could ruin the greatest relationship he had ever encountered by drunkenly uttering three little words. If Erik had only realized that Charles hadn't felt the same way, that he wasn't interested in Erik like Erik was him. If Erik had only been more careful with his words and feelings, things could've been different. Things could've been normal. They could've been mindlessly chatting about something completely mundane or playing chess. Things weren't normal now, though. Erik wasn't sure they ever would be again.

Erik realized glasses ago that it probably wasn't the greatest idea to drink when his drinking was the sole reason why he got into this situation to begin with. He didn't care at that moment. He wanted to be numb. He didn't want to think nor remember. He wanted to forget that Charles was deliberately ignoring him; his every call, his every text message. He had left countless messages and voicemails, apologizing and begging for Charles to at least speak to him. He wanted to forget the pale, almost scared look on Charles' face when Erik had said I love you. He wanted to forget it all, but all he could do was remember.

*

That night they had been drinking and joking around as they had done a million times before at Erik's flat. Unfortunately, Erik had one too many glasses of wine.

Erik isn't one to discuss his feelings with anyone; he had always kept to himself. He had never really had anyone to talk to either, though. He never had a friend that he trusted like he did Charles. Talking to Charles often came easy. This definitely wasn't a subject he permitted himself to speak to Charles about. He had come so close to telling him countless times before, but always managed to hold back.

Too much wine equals Erik not having full control over what comes out of his mouth. After they both finally calmed down from a breath taking laugh that had made both of their abdomens sore, Erik gazed at Charles with utmost affection sparkling in his gray-blue eyes.

"What? Is my hair messed up?" Charles asked as he giggled and patted down the top of his curly hair. Erik simply shook his head with the same soft smile playing on his lips.

"Charles...I just...I love you, Charles," Erik blurted, not immediately understanding why Charles' face had went pale and his mouth opened in shock. He had finally processed what he had said long moments after. "Oh...shit. Charles, I'm so sorry. Oh my god. What the fuck is wrong with me?" Erik panicked as he stood up and went to stand by the window, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. Charles was stuck in his seat in the armchair. His blue eyes stared blankly where Erik had been sitting before.

"I-I think it's time for me to go home. I'm sorry, Erik," Charles muttered lowly with tears pricking his eyes before he grabbed his coat and nearly ran out of the apartment. Erik called after Charles, but he was already long gone.

Erik had called and called and called with no response. No answers to his text messages. Not a word from Charles Xavier.

*

Erik promised himself he wouldn't cry. He was stronger than that, he thought. He was so wrong. He had went so long without shedding a single tear, but he couldn't stand it any longer. He finally let the hot tears stream down his flushed face freely. He was angry, hurt, frustrated, and so many other feelings he couldn't even reciprocate at that moment. As he began to sob, he flung the empty glass against the wall as hard as he could, shattering it into little pieces all over the hardwood floor. He screamed in vexation as he continued to cry, running his hands roughly through his hair. He collapsed against the wall opposite the shards of glass and cried until he couldn't cry any longer.

Erik hadn't remembered falling asleep against the wall. He couldn't think at all; his head felt like it was about to explode and he felt like somebody beat the shit out of him, his body hurt all over. He managed to get up without falling, careful to step over the broken glass. He clutched his head as he staggered to the bathroom, sliding his hand along the wall for stability. His head was spinning; he was genuinely surprised he made it to the sink before he threw up everything in his stomach, which wasn't much. Erik didn't eat much those last few days prior, just enough to keep him on his feet.

After he finally stopped dry heaving, he painfully swallowed a few ibuprofen and hopped into the shower. He let the scorching water rain down on him until it turned cold. He had still felt like he got hit by a bus, but he felt a little better than before. All he wanted to do was go lay down in his bed; properly sleep it off. He disregarded the mess of his small flat and trudged his way to his soft bed. He flopped back onto his bed, falling right on something hard.

"Ow! Fuck!" he hissed as he jumped up out of the bed and rubbed his sore back. He felt around for the object that had connected with his back and discovered that it was phone. He was internally battling himself on whether he should check to see if Charles had answered his texts or called or not. He decided against it, sitting his phone on his bedside table and nearly smothering himself in his heavy, warm comforter.

After long minutes of tossing and turning, curiosity got the best of him. He really didn't want to be reminded of his rejection yet again, but he simply couldn't help himself. He felt even more pathetic than he had before, but the temptation was just too hard to resist. When he tapped the home button impatiently, his heart was lodged in his throat.

There was a single message from Charles sent shortly after Erik had passed out in his living room floor. He asked if they could talk at his place whenever Erik could. Erik's stomach dropped. He replied with a simple yes. Short and straightforward, attempting to at least seem like he was his usually composed self over text message. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep up the facade in front of Charles; that was simply hopeless. Charles could see right through him every single time, no matter what it was about.

He was extremely anxious. He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. Charles was most likely going to tell him that he can't be his friend anymore; not with knowing that Erik loved him in a more than friendly way. He was certain of it. All he could do was power through the talk and try not to cry. He may cry all by his lonesome, but he was not going to cry in front of Charles. He didn't want Charles to feel responsible for something Erik brought upon himself. He simply would not allow it. It wasn't Charles' fault he didn't feel the same way.

Erik threw on a simple black t-shirt and a pair of jeans he retrieved out of his unorganized closet. He told Charles he was heading over. He was antsy. He was much too nervous for this.

He could try to say it was a drunken mistake. Charles would know. Charles knew Erik better than Erik knew himself. He always knew when Erik was lying. It was almost like he was telepathic.

-

Charles felt like an absolute dick. He had never hated anything in his life more than he hated himself at that moment. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. The guilt was absolutely tearing him into pieces. He left Erik alone in his flat. He just left him.

The Erik that he could always count on, no matter what.

The Erik that he had trusted with his life.

The Erik that had been his best friend for years.

The same Erik that he had been hopelessly in love with since the first time he saw that beloved shark smile of his.

But he ran. He was scared, terrified even. Charles didn't know what to do. Charles often knew what to do in drastic situations, but not this time. Erik had left him completely dumbfounded. Charles considered himself to be an all around smart guy, but his smarts certainly failed him in this particular situation. He felt stupid; he felt ignorant. Running away was the biggest mistake he had ever made.

Erik had told him he loved him. He was drunk. It had to have been a mistake. Erik would've never said that if he was sober. He wasn't thinking. That had to be it. Erik Lehnsherr couldn't love him. Him out of all people?

Charles found this whole situation uncannily ironic. Charles was completely terrified that if he told Erik how he felt, how he had  _always_  felt, that it would freak Erik out and he would lose the one person he adored the most. But everything was completely backwards. Erik had revealed his true(?) feelings and Charles had done exactly what he feared Erik would do. 

He fucked up. He was so angry at himself. He screwed everything up. He never told Erik how he had truly felt because he was so scared of losing him. He didn't want to lose the most important person in his life. Erik did the one thing that he himself was most terrified of doing, and Charles acted how he imagined Erik would if he were ever to let those three words slip. Charles had pushed him away in a time of vulnerability when Erik needed him most. 

Charles knew he was in love with Erik; it tore him apart every single time he saw Erik smile, heard Erik's deep melodious laugh, looked into Erik's beautiful, vibrant, clear blue eyes, heard him talk aimlessly about anything and everything. Just being around him drove Charles completely insane. He loved every single thing about Erik, and it hurt. Oh god, did it hurt. It hurt more and more every day. He thought there was no fucking way Erik loved him back. No way. Only in his dreams, he had concluded long ago.

Erik must hate him right now. Charles wouldn't blame him. He couldn't bring himself to answer his phone calls or text messages. He was too ashamed. Why hadn't he just stayed? Why hadn't he figured things out? All he had ever wanted was for Erik to love him. How could he have been so idiotic?

Despite his constant denial, Charles had a feeling deep down that maybe it wasn't just the alcohol talking. Maybe Erik did love him. No matter how well he knew Erik, he never saw Erik liking him as possibility; Erik loving him was completely out of the picture. He didn't stay long enough to figure out.

He missed Erik. It hadn't been nearly as long as it felt, but his heart ached like it had been years, not days. He felt horrible for ignoring him for so long, but he couldn't take it any longer. He had to see him, to hear his deep German tinged voice, to tell him how he really felt.

He had to talk to him. There was no getting around it.

He finally texted Erik after reading through the several apologetic messages he had sent him. God, Charles felt like such an ass. He selfishly ignored Erik and made him feel like shit. Fucking fantastic.

_Can we talk? Come over to my flat whenever you can, if you would like._

Charles waited by his phone for hours, checking it every couple of minutes, staying up into the early hours of morning. He eventually dozed off on the couch with his phone still clutched in his hand. He woke up with a start only three hours after he had fallen asleep to the loud ding of his phone. This said ding had startled him so much that his phone went flying across the living room.

"Bloody hell!" Charles cursed as he retrieved his phone, hoping that he hadn't cracked his screen. His screen wasn't cracked, but he did have a message from Erik that said yes. Charles was starting to freak out. What was he going to say? More importantly, what was Erik going to say? He sighed and flopped back onto the couch. He felt like a 13 year old girl obsessing over her little crush.

He figured he had to at least shower and clean up his flat a bit. It wasn't even that messy, but Charles couldn't stand anything being out of place. His life was messy as can be, why should his flat be too? Charles tidied up and took a quick shower.

As soon as he got dressed in a blue sweater and a pair of nice jeans, he picked up his phone to check his messages and nearly dropped the damn thing due to the boisterous ding of the ringer. Erik had messaged him stating he was on his way.

Charles was starting to panic. He was nervous, skittish, anxious, anything and everything in between. He absolutely could not sit still for the life of him. This little chat would make or break their relationship. Charles didn't want to lose Erik. He would be damned if he lost Erik because he didn't have the balls to tell him how he felt about him in the first place. He wouldn't let it happen. Fuck. That.

-

Erik walked up to Charles' door, deciding if he should knock on the door or turn around and go back to wallowing in self pity, drinking himself to death. Before he could decide, Charles hesitantly opened his door to find Erik standing directly in front of him. Charles was startled for a few short moments, then quickly recovered as he had noticed it was only Erik. He absolutely  _had_  to control himself, no matter how much it hurt his to see Erik so broken. Knowing that he was the reason for Erik's pain, he was the reason Erik looked like he hadn't slept or ate since he had stormed out of his flat only days before; he simply had to stay calm. For Erik. He didn't want to cause him any more pain.

Charles opened the door wider so that Erik could enter his flat. All Erik did was stand and stare, his stormy eyes full of sorrow and pain. Charles cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. "Please come in, Erik," Charles said in a hoarse whisper, looking down at his feet. He was holding back long overdue tears. Erik nodded slowly and stepped into the cozy flat. "Don't act like you're a stranger. Sit. I'll make some tea," Charles said as he hurried off to the kitchen to prepare two cups of tea, hoping Erik wouldn't notice that he was fighting back tears.

Erik felt like he was in a nightmare. Nothing felt real. He had never felt like this around Charles. Never. They had always been so comfortable around each other, but Erik didn't even know how to act, how to feel in this moment. He tensely made his way over to the couch, waiting patiently for Charles to return, trying to think up what to say. How was he supposed to explain? Should he lie? Should he just come out with it? He had no clue. Not a single idea.

While Erik was in the living room shaking with anticipation and mentally battling himself, Charles was sobbing, leaning all of his weight against the kitchen cabinet for stability. He completely broke down. He was careful to be quiet. He didn't want Erik to hear his sobs through the thin swing door that separated the living room from the kitchen. The sight of Erik destroyed him. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to be strong; he wanted Erik to know how much he loved him. He didn't know if he could do it. Doubt was beating him down.

Erik was starting to get concerned. It didn't take 10 minutes to prepare tea. He hadn't even heard water running in the kitchen that whole time. He left his seat on the couch and made his way to the kitchen, slowly pushing the door open.

"Charles?" Erik called out hesitantly. Charles stilled at the sound of his voice and hurriedly wiped his eyes, straightening himself up. "Are you alright?" Erik asked as he cautiously approached Charles like you would a feral animal. Charles turned to face him, but avoided Erik's eyes. He knew he would start crying again if he looked into those tired, pained eyes.

"I'm fine," Charles managed to lie with a sad, falsely reassuring smile. Charles shook his head. "No, no, that was a lie. I'm not fine. Erik, I'm sorry. I-It's all my fault," he managed to choke out while tears started to brim his bright blue eyes, threatening to spill over. "Erik...I-um," Charles let out a frustrated sigh and cleared his throat, furrowing his eyebrows and carefully calculating his next words; the words that would change everything more than it already had been.

Erik stared at him with confusion clouding his facial features, listening intently at what Charles had to say.

"I waited way too long to say this. I'm not going to lie to you any longer. It's utterly ridiculous how many times I've wanted to tell you this. I, well, fuck. I never thought it would be this hard to say," he said with a shaky laugh, tears now streaming freely down his flushed cheeks. "Erik, I love yo-"

Erik's lips were on his before he could even finish the phrase.

Charles was quite confused at first. After a few moments of Erik's warm lips on his, he came to his senses. He kissed Erik back lightly. The kiss was short and sweet. Erik pulled away, breaking the connection.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I-I don't know what came over me," Erik muttered apologetically as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, a dark blush slowly creeping onto his face. Charles giggled and grinned at Erik. "What?" Erik asked, finally looking up from his shoes to meet Charles' gaze.

"I'm glad you did that, Erik. Don't be sorry. You have no idea how long I've wanted you to do that."

"Really?" Erik nearly whispered in disbelief. Was he dreaming? He almost pinched himself to make sure that this wasn't just happening in his head.

"Of course, Erik. How could I not?" Erik's face broke out into a large shark-like grin despite himself. "I've only been in love with you since the first time I saw that very smile," Charles lightly brushed Erik's cheek with his soft fingertips. Charles brought Erik's face down to his own, closing the small space between them, their lips colliding. This kiss was long overdue. It was slow and deep; laced with the compressed love of many, many years. 

-

That evening, they laid on the Charles' couch talking the day away. They giggled, they joked, they kissed. They cried, they confessed, they explained. They talked until their eyelids got too heavy for them to hold up and both fell asleep snuggled warmly together on the small couch.

No more pining, no more pain, no more loneliness; just Erik and Charles happily loving each other more and more as the days went by.

No, things were not back to normal. It never would be again. Neither of them minded one bit, though. Everything was how it was supposed to be. They were both finally happy. They were both finally  _together_.


End file.
